


Cliffside

by bitchslappedmyself



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Hurricanes, M/M, Mermaids, Sirens, Storms, cliffs, falling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 10:46:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6515080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitchslappedmyself/pseuds/bitchslappedmyself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five years have gone by, and still Iwaizumi finds himself standing on the cliffside, gazing down at the waters that crash against the craggy rocks and create rainbows of salt in the sky. Some nights he still wakes up drenched in sweat, grasping the empty space next to him, and it takes a minute for him to remember, and two hours to fall back asleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cliffside

**Author's Note:**

> This is for @megane-momoi on tumblr. I have no idea where you live so it might have still been the 9th for you when I posted it on tumblr, but it wasn't for me so I am....really....really....sorry
> 
> You mentioned you really like Iwaoi and fantasy au's so...I hurt them....I'm sorry but angst is all I know how to do....
> 
>  
> 
> [tumblr post](http://sushioi.tumblr.com/post/142555231463/cliffside)

Five years have gone by, and still Iwaizumi finds himself standing on the cliffside, gazing down at the waters that crash against the craggy rocks and create rainbows of salt in the sky. Some nights he still wakes up drenched in sweat, grasping the empty space next to him, and it takes a minute for him to remember, and two hours to fall back asleep.

Every couple of months, Mattsun and Makki would pay a visit, just to see how he was holding up. With every visit, Iwaizumi made sure to clean up his house and put on a happy face, act as if he was finally moving on, as if he was finally beginning to repair his broken life.

It’s exhausting.

Some days Iwaizumi can still see his fiancé in hallway, or in a room, sometimes even in the garden, dancing in the sunlight, their laughter lighting up the world even more. He can still see how the sun reflected off their hair and eyes, illuminating Iwaizumi’s life once more.

He occasionally still falls to the ground and cries, but the tears dried long ago.

Iwaizumi tries to keep himself from going to the cliff every week. He really does. Sometimes he manages to only go every month. He visits every day in July though, and brings a white rose with him with each visit. Sometimes he’ll bring two glasses and a bottle of champagne with him, pouring some of the drink over the edge before drinking straight from the bottle. He’s never used the glasses, but it’s nice to imagine his fiancé next to him, giggling and swirling their drink around in the glass, their hand laying gently over Iwaizumi’s.

He always makes sure to leave the white rose at the edge of the cliff, right at the spot where he last saw his fiancé alive, and happy.

The walk home is still as slow and painful as it was after the funeral procession.

 

* * *

 

Some days, Iwaizumi wishes he had a gravestone to visit, instead of spending his afternoons sitting at the top of a cliff. But his fiancé made it quite clear in their will that if they were to die at sea, so must their coffin.

He can’t even close his eyes some nights without that awful day replying in his mind over and over, refusing to let him get some rest and possibly have a peaceful night for once. The wind creating soft waves, opposite of the ones from the dreaded night. The scent of salt in the air, stinging his eyes and giving him a different excuse as to why he was crying. He remembers vividly how Mattsun and Makki had to pull him away from the coffin, right before it was deposited into the ocean. He can still feel the smooth wood underneath his fingertips, remembers watching Mattsun and Makki help to push it over the side of the boat.

Iwaizumi remembers how he almost dove into the water after it, because watching the coffin sink meant he wouldn’t be coming home to his fiancé’s awful cooking anymore or getting to see how excited they get over the night sky or get to hold their hand or see their smile. Watching the coffin sink to the bottom of the sea meant and there was no one waiting for him at home and he was _alone._

Mattsun and Makki didn’t leave until three months after the funeral because they didn’t trust Iwaizumi to _not_ do something stupid. Or ‘suicidal,’ as they called it.

They didn’t need to worry about that, actually. Iwaizumi had made a promise to his fiancé, that when he dies, it can’t be on purpose. It had to be accidental, old age, or some incurable illness, and Iwaizumi wasn’t fond of breaking promises.

 

* * *

 

Maybe he should have listened the the weather reporter from last night’s report. Maybe he should have looked through the newspaper that he typically ignores and throws into the growing pile of forgotten news after it’s delivered to his front door every morning. Maybe he should have remembered that it’s not a good idea to go to high places when it’s raining, because rain usually lead to a storm when you close to large bodies of water. Maybe he should have looked out the window. Then he might have noticed the sea growing restless, creating a storm identical to the one five years ago.

There are so many _maybe’s_ and _what if’s_ that he’s lost count. In the end, it doesn’t really matter. Because Iwaizumi was still standing at the top of the cliff, watching the waves below grow taller and larger with every passing second. The clouds rumbled and poured more rain down, making everything slippery and the possibility of falling grew. His clothes stuck to his skin uncomfortably, his hair deflated and matted against his forehead. The white rose in his hand was on the ground, and Iwaizumi watched it get caught up in the wind and fly away, disappearing into the storm. And he can’t stop himself from bitterly thinking how the flower is some stupid metaphor of how no matter how hard he tries, the earth that helped him grow will continue to steal his loved ones.

And when he slips and falls on his face, just inches away from the edge of the cliff, that’s the earth mocking him.

There’s dirt and stones in his mouth, leaving a bitter taste. There’s salt on his lips, and Iwaizumi can’t tell if it’s from the sea spray, or if he started crying at some point during the storm. He touches his cheek and sighs at the red stains. The salt and mud that enter his wound hurt, but it’s pleasant, balances out the pain in his heart.

Iwaizumi crawls forward, ignoring the warning signals in his mind as he looks over the edge of the cliff, watching the waves grow closer and closer. He can hear the hurricane sirens from the town, but ignores them as he becomes more and more fascinated with how the waves crash against the cliff, and if his mind wanders off to think about what a body against them would look like, well, who’s to say?

Then the song begins, and instantly Iwaizumi becomes enchanted.

His memories of his fiancé run through his mind, reminding him of how they met, growing up together, spending the hours after school in one of their houses, going their separate ways after high school but staying in contact, meeting up again after graduation and finding the spark between them was brighter than it had ever been before. Days that used to meld together, from their first sleepover, date, kiss, fight, all the time they had spent together, the good and the bad, it all came rushing back to Iwaizumi in a moment.

And suddenly, he finds himself falling head first.

 _So this is it,_ he thinks to himself. Despite the circumstances, and the one regret of never thanking Mattsun and Makki for all their attempts to help heal him, Iwaizumi still manages to smile.

The landing is not at all what he was expecting, but still hurt, worse than he imagined. All he can think about is how much bad luck he must have for not landing on a rock and dying instantly, but now having to suffer through the idea of drowning.

Except, he can still hear the song, and now it’s growing closer.

The song stops, and Iwaizumi feels cool hands touch the sides of his face gently. Thumbs gently rub underneath his eyes, as if they’re removing tears, and he wonders if he’s still crying. He attempts to open his eyes, but a hand quickly presses against them. His mouth opens in protest, and instantly he snaps it close when water floods his mouth.

Fingers wiggle their way into his mouth, and quickly hold his jaw, forcing his mouth to remain open. Iwaizumi gags at the saltiness, and struggles to keep himself from breathing, but like all drowning victims, he succumbs to his body’s need for air.

The last thing he hears is soft laughter, and how much it reminds him of his fiancé’s before Iwaizumi’s world goes black.

 

* * *

 

Iwaizumi’s not dead, that much is true. That much is known from how he can feel a soft fabric underneath him, and can feel himself breathing.

He can’t feel his legs, though.

For a second, the thought that somebody saved him from the storm and the fall made his crippled from the waist down enters his mind, but the idea quickly leaves when Iwaizumi finally opens his eyes.

He doesn’t even pay attention to the fact that his legs _have fused together into a dark green fish tail_ and is instead looking at the figure who sits at the windowsill, a white rose in their hands.

Iwaizumi can’t breath.

Their hair. Their frame. Their lips. Their hands. Their fingers. The way they’re sitting. The peaceful expression that sits on their features. The way they twirl the white rose in their hand slowly. The soft sighs and the gentle tilt up in his lips. The way their hair flutters softly in the current, the way the sun illuminates each individual strand.

Everything about them steals Iwaizumi’s breath away, and he has to rub his eyes to make sure he’s not dreaming.

  
_“Tooru?”_


End file.
